About to go on the run
Blah. First plane leaves at five-ish, and then a plane changeover and the night at the hotel airport, and then tomorrow afternoon we go to Egypt.
Whee, last-minute packing! It's the only kind I do. Also, last-minute ficcage. Sorry hikari-pretty, but I'll try and get the other one you asked for done when I come home.
* * *
One
It was a strange thing to realize that he was stronger than his brother. It was a stranger thing to realize that he was stronger than everyone.
Alphonse hated hurting people, but they were going to hurt his brother.
In the rain and the confusion, it would even look like an accident, and for once, the armor would be more protection than curse - metal, after all, could hold no expression that would betray him.
Two
He pretends that he doesn't remember those years. It makes things easier, when wearing the coat still makes them flinch, when they avoid his eyes (just a little too dark) and his smile (just a little too wise) and his hair (just a little too loose) and even the sound of his voice (softer and sweeter, not echoing the way they're used to).
Mustang avoids him the most because he knows that he's lying, that the basic principles of soul transmutation (they invented it, he lived it, and it was obvious to anyone with the eyes to see it) mean that the body is only the housing, and the soul holds the heart of the mind.
Alphonse kind of wants to punch him on principle, but that's just the echo of Edward, humming through his thoughts and underneath his skin, real as breathing and the hereafter.
Three
The most annoying thing about alchemy is that he needs hands to do it, and if he could, he would have sealed his cracks and protected her from Pride. But he couldn't, so he didn't, and even though her corpse was a dead weight inside, he managed to kill him anyway.
Four
Edward is the most wonderful, most precious thing in his life, and even wearing a face that isn't his, he's still beautiful. They cut the body's hair, dyed it and styled it, and if it weren't for its soft curves and too-dull eyes, he would be close to perfect.
Next time, they decide, they'll use Russell and Fletcher instead.
Five
They drink coffee in the mornings - no sugar and definitely no milk, and Edward eats oatmeal while he crunches on dry toast.
"Hey, brother?"
Edward startles, turns huge gold eyes on him, and then calms from his fluster, lips curling into a smile. "Yeah?"
"Nothing," he says mildly, and reaches over to brush his fingers over his cheek. "Love you."
Edward doesn't even flinch today. It's progress. "Yeah, Al. You too."
Alphonse smiles and kisses his cheek, and doesn't mind when Ed squirms, embarrassed, and gives his shoulder a halfhearted shove. "Sap," Edward mutters, but that token protest is all he gives before quieting, sliding an arm around his waist and burying his nose into pale hair, breath tickling against Al's throat.
Alphonse closes his blue, blue eyes and laughs.
* * *
Whee, last-minute packing! It's the only kind I do. Also, last-minute ficcage. Sorry hikari-pretty, but I'll try and get the other one you asked for done when I come home.
* * *
One
It was a strange thing to realize that he was stronger than his brother. It was a stranger thing to realize that he was stronger than everyone.
Alphonse hated hurting people, but they were going to hurt his brother.
In the rain and the confusion, it would even look like an accident, and for once, the armor would be more protection than curse - metal, after all, could hold no expression that would betray him.
Two
He pretends that he doesn't remember those years. It makes things easier, when wearing the coat still makes them flinch, when they avoid his eyes (just a little too dark) and his smile (just a little too wise) and his hair (just a little too loose) and even the sound of his voice (softer and sweeter, not echoing the way they're used to).
Mustang avoids him the most because he knows that he's lying, that the basic principles of soul transmutation (they invented it, he lived it, and it was obvious to anyone with the eyes to see it) mean that the body is only the housing, and the soul holds the heart of the mind.
Alphonse kind of wants to punch him on principle, but that's just the echo of Edward, humming through his thoughts and underneath his skin, real as breathing and the hereafter.
Three
The most annoying thing about alchemy is that he needs hands to do it, and if he could, he would have sealed his cracks and protected her from Pride. But he couldn't, so he didn't, and even though her corpse was a dead weight inside, he managed to kill him anyway.
Four
Edward is the most wonderful, most precious thing in his life, and even wearing a face that isn't his, he's still beautiful. They cut the body's hair, dyed it and styled it, and if it weren't for its soft curves and too-dull eyes, he would be close to perfect.
Next time, they decide, they'll use Russell and Fletcher instead.
Five
They drink coffee in the mornings - no sugar and definitely no milk, and Edward eats oatmeal while he crunches on dry toast.
"Hey, brother?"
Edward startles, turns huge gold eyes on him, and then calms from his fluster, lips curling into a smile. "Yeah?"
"Nothing," he says mildly, and reaches over to brush his fingers over his cheek. "Love you."
Edward doesn't even flinch today. It's progress. "Yeah, Al. You too."
Alphonse smiles and kisses his cheek, and doesn't mind when Ed squirms, embarrassed, and gives his shoulder a halfhearted shove. "Sap," Edward mutters, but that token protest is all he gives before quieting, sliding an arm around his waist and burying his nose into pale hair, breath tickling against Al's throat.
Alphonse closes his blue, blue eyes and laughs.
* * *